The Alpha Written in Her Diary Chapter 08

The Alpha Written in Her Diary Chapter 08

For the next week, Noah doesn’t come to school.

The news spreads even faster than I expect.

“Something huge happened in the Fullmoon Pack. They found out Alpha Ben has an illegitimate son who’s two months older than Noah. He’s actually the first in line to inherit the pack.”

“Luna Rachel was so furious that she went back to her father’s pack. She even threatened to wipe

out Alpha Ben’s pack. The two packs are basically on the verge of war.’

“The Redmoon Pack has already started putting pressure on them. Alpha Ben is losing the trust of

the entire pack.”

During every break, the students talk about nothing but the battle over the Fullmoon Pack’s

succession.

I quietly flip through my book, my gaze drifting toward Chris in the corner.

He sits there in silence. His face is gloomy. The fingers gripping his pen are so tight that his

knuckles have turned white.

Alpha Ben has abandoned him.

The Redmoon Pack and the Fullmoon Pack are bound together through a political mating alliance, and the two packs have always been evenly matched.

Under overwhelming pressure from the Redmoon Pack, Alpha Ben publicly announces that he is severing all ties with his illegitimate son.

Chris Mayer, your umbrella is gone.

Noah finally returns.

He’s noticeably thinner. His cheekbones stand out sharply, and dark circles shadow his eyes.

But the look in them is colder and more ruthless than ever.

Without saying a word, he walks straight toward Chris.

The entire classroom falls silent. Everyone holds their breath.

Noah grabs Chris by the collar, yanks him out of his seat, and slams him onto the floor.

“Chris Mayer.”

He sneers through gritted teeth, “No. I should call you Chris Dillon.”

Chris struggles to get up.

Noah plants his foot squarely on Chris’s face and grinds it down.

“You filthy bastard. A worthless illegitimate son.’

Looking down at him, Noah speaks quietly, yet every word echoes through the classroom.

“You think you’re worthy of standing beside me? You belong beneath my feet.”

“Does your mother know her son turned out this pathetic?”

“Oh, that’s right. She’s DEAD. No one was around to teach you.”

Chris’s body trembles.

Not from fear. From rage.

But with his face pinned beneath Noah’s shoe, no one can see his expression.

Only his free hand remains visible. His fingernails dig so deeply into his palm that blood begins to

seep out.

“So Chris is Alpha Ben’s illegitimate son.”

“He looked so respectable. Turns out he’s nothing but filth. And he actually dared to sit in the same

classroom as Noah.”

“That’s disgusting.”

The students surrounding them mock him without mercy.

Among the heirs of every pack, illegitimate children are universally despised.

I rise from my seat, “That’s enough.”

Noah lifts his eyes to me. The violence in them is almost tangible.

“You’re protecting him again?”

“I already told you. He’s under my protection.”

I meet his gaze without backing down.

“Are you really going to stand against me?”

He stares at me for several long seconds before finally lifting his foot. Then he steps close enough

that only I can hear him.

“Even if you’re my mate, I can’t keep tolerating you protecting someone I hate.”

“Next time, I won’t go easy on either of you.”

I meet his eyes without flinching. Then I bend down and help Chris to his feet.

A dirty shoeprint marks his face. Fresh scrapes cover his skin. His lips tremble slightly.

“Come with me.”

Without a word, Chris follows me out of the classroom.

After we leave the school grounds, he continues walking silently behind me.

“Where are you taking me?” His voice is hoarse.

“I’m taking you home.”

I flag down a taxi and give the driver an address.

The Lone Wolf slum at the edge of pack territory.

The drive lasts nearly forty minutes. The farther we go, the older the buildings become. The streets

grow narrower. Everything around us becomes more worn down.

Finally, the taxi stops at the entrance to a cramped alley.

The driver hesitates, “I can’t drive any farther in.”

I pay the fare and get out.

Chris follows behind me, looking as though he wants to say something.

“Hayley, how can your home be in a place like this?” he finally asks.

I don’t answer. I simply keep walking.

After turning three corners, I stop in front of a run-down four-story apartment building.

The hallway light has long since burned out.

The paint on the iron security door is peeling away like old scars.

“This…”I look up at the building, “…used to be my home.”

Chris freezes.

I push open the door. The hallway is pitch-black. A damp, moldy smell rushes toward us.

The wooden stairs creak beneath our feet with every step.

Third floor. First apartment on the left.

The spare key is still hidden in the narrow gap above the doorframe.

I stand on my tiptoes, retrieve it, and slide it into the lock.

The door slowly opens.